


Lighting the Skies

by pagerunner



Series: the echoes of our choices [6]
Category: Borderlands
Genre: M/M, post-episode-5 speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:00:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5522924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pagerunner/pseuds/pagerunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Page writes unabashed holiday fluff. Because these things happen. Rhys and Vaughn get back together after Rhys' unplanned detour through a certain Vault, put a new Atlas product through its paces, and celebrate a certain Pandoran holiday in high style.</p><p>(All of which is both true and <em>completely euphemistic.</em> Note the rating. I reiterate, these things happen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lighting the Skies

Rhys and Vaughn’s first proper night back together was heralded with explosions.

The timing of it all was coincidental, but as it happened, apropos. Rhys heard the first sizzle of rocket fire somewhere beyond his own rapid, panting breaths, and a much louder groan from Vaughn muffled the distant _boom_ almost entirely. Rhys could see the resulting flare through the windows, backlighting Vaughn’s silhouette in striking fashion. But for a little while, all Rhys could truly focus on was the sound of their bodies moving together, their voices rising into full-out cries. There was no need to be quiet out here. The seemingly ramshackle, but secretly well-appointed, shelter they’d retreated to was shielded by a prototype Atlas privacy  & defense screen, one still undergoing internal testing; it wouldn’t hit the market for months yet. Rhys might, however, have personally customized this one for this very purpose. Just possibly.

Under the circumstances, he was _more_ than happy to abuse its directional soundproofing to the best of his ability.

“You can change the settings on that if you want,” he’d told Vaughn a couple hours ago, while first showing him around the space. “Sometimes it’s nice to have total quiet. But other times it’s useful to be able to hear what’s going on outside, even if you don’t want to be heard by anyone else. Or any _thing_ else. It _is_ Pandora out there.”

“Nice.” Vaughn had arched an eyebrow. “And that’s been tested to how many decibels?”

Rhys, of course, had smirked right back. “Want to try it out?”

The way Vaughn was shouting right now, Rhys could put that answer down as an unqualified _yes._ His own ECHO display was showing a very satisfactory lack of pickup from the outside microphones, no matter how much Rhys was provoking Vaughn to ever greater volume. And action. And…oh, God, _everything_. The outside-to-inside sound transmission was working just fine, too, because at the very moment Vaughn threw his head back, stuttered his hips in one final, forceful pulse, and came on what was, ultimately, an almost silent cry, something overhead voiced it for him: a tremendous blast that sent light arcing through the sky, and made enough of a sonic concussion that even inside the shield, everything rattled. Rhys laughed with the shock of it—the _oh, God, the earth actually moved_ perfection of it—and came seeing sparks.

Literally.

It was a while before he could string words together again, but the first thing his thoughts provided him was, _Best…product test…ever._

He didn’t say anything aloud, though, until Vaughn finally slipped free and settled at Rhys’ side, and both of them, sweaty and pleasantly exhausted and warm right to the core, looked up at the ongoing fireworks display.

“I could not have timed that better,” said Vaughn, sounding more than a little smug.

Rhys chuckled, suddenly remembering. “Y’know…hate to say it, but the last time anyone said that to me, it was Vasquez talking about Henderson floating by his office window.”

“Oh, ew.” Vaughn punched his shoulder. “I did not need that mental image.”

Rhys grinned. Actually, it was nice to be able to find the humor in that moment, finally. Even if Vaughn’s teasing punch about it was probably going to leave a bruise. Dude was a _lot_ stronger these days.

That was…well, that was awfully nice too. To put it mildly.

Rhys gathered Vaughn up closer, breathing in the post-sex smell of him and feeling smug about that too, if he had to admit to it. And as he slowly caught his breath, he focused his ECHO eye on the ongoing explosions outside the window. AtlasConnect, which he’d brought back online himself and thoroughly supplemented, provided him a detailed analysis of the display: launch trajectories, measurements of force, even a breakdown of the make, model, and manufacturer of everything involved. “Torgue, huh?” Rhys murmured as a particularly brilliant explosion went off overhead, sparkling against Pandora’s deep and days-long darkness. “Not bad. But note to self: invest in your own fireworks line.”

“Would sell better around here if it’s actual weaponry,” Vaughn said. He was starting to sound sleepy. He was also getting pleasantly snuggly. It was quite a contrast to the take-charge attitude of a few minutes ago, which Rhys had also had _no_ problems with.

“Yeah,” Rhys replied eventually. “But…still. It would be nice to have something for special events. Stuff you can fire off without, y’know, losing an arm to the recoil.” He peered sidelong at Vaughn. “You did make sure everyone knows how to discharge all this stuff safely, right? ‘Cause your guys…not so big on the weaponry either, usually.”

“Course I did.” He yawned. “I put Dirk in charge of it. He’s…annoying, honestly. Super fastidious. Way more than even I ever was, so don’t give me that look. And he’s a little paranoid, too. But it’s kinda what you want in weapons safety.”

“Fair point.”

“Besides—it’s a good way to get rid of all that confiscated crap, right? I mean, as ways of destroying dangerous contraband go…”

Another rocket exploded high overhead. Rhys stroked Vaughn’s shoulder and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m sure those raiders you defanged are enjoying the show.”

“Behold, the good work of the Children of Helios,” Vaughn said, in similar humor. “Cleaning up Pandora, one festive fireworks show at a time.”

Rhys smiled, leaned over, and gave Vaughn a kiss. Vaughn arched up into it with enthusiasm. There was still a bit of the earlier intensity to it, too—not only Vaughn’s newfound initiative, but also a potent mix of relief, need, and just a little desperation, the _don’t you dare disappear like that again_ edge that had greeted Rhys on his return from the Vault of the Traveler. It hadn’t quite left since. Rhys couldn’t blame him for it, either. He was far too glad to be back himself.

He also still had so much to explain about what he’d seen, about what was left to do…but it wasn’t time for that, not yet. Tonight was for other matters entirely. Tonight was for the two of them to live up to their own rumors: the new face of Atlas and Pandora’s notorious bandit king, shaking up the world together…both literally and, well, metaphorically.

The rumors weren’t all wrong. And a few of the more salacious ones, he privately admitted, were kind of satisfying.

But the real thing was better.

Rhys softly drew back, watching another rocket blast reflected in Vaughn’s eyes. And when he carded his fingers through Vaughn’s hair, he maybe took a moment to tilt his palm up, glancing at the Vault symbol still visible on his skin. Maybe. But it was only for a second.

Then he cupped Vaughn’s cheek and drew him close again.

“Happy Mercenary Day, Vaughn,” he said.

Vaughn hummed in pleasure and grinned. And the two of them curled up together, safe beneath the shield, while the weapons of a hundred mercenaries lit the skies in a more beautiful way than they’d probably ever expected.

“Yeah, Rhys,” he murmured into the kiss. “You too.”


End file.
